The Patriot And Her Russian
by sctwilightvampwolfgal
Summary: Amelia had always been a patriot towards her own country, and she hated any other nationality that had caused problems for America in the past. Meeting a woman at a club may or may not change that fact. Nyotalia, human AU.


Call Amelia a patriot as she followed American History to a t.

She found herself hating foreign countries that had caused a ton of trouble in the past towards America; these included while not being limited to Russia, Germany, and sometimes Cuba.

The American female refused to be anywhere near a Russian or German, so how had she ended up in this situation?  
It all started with a fairly normal day out for her as she'd left work feeling drained though eager for the weekend; she was as ready as she'll ever be to party, so she headed home to erase all traces of work from her figure.

She swapped her formal and tiresome work clothes for an awesome and new cocktail dress that dipped a little too low for some people's comfort levels though not hers.

It accented the darling shape of her figure by clinging on tight, and the cleavage seemed endless at first sight while all of her legs or at least most of them were playing peek a boo.

She grinned as she pulled on one of her highest pairs of heels that just so happened to go wonderfully with her current dress.

Amelia half twirled as she analyzed via the mirror how she looked; a wide, nearly childlike smile took over her face at what she saw.

She definitely should be voted on as Miss America though she didn't feel like being critiqued heavily or spending hours with 'beauty know hows' as they told her their honest and overly done and very cliched opinions.

Amelia debated the merits of having a coat versus how hot she'd look with out one and figured that whoever she met could keep her warm with a wonderful makeout session, and she'd mostly be indoors anyway.

The American female walked outside with an obvious swing to her step, accenting her fabulous hips and the nearly uncontainable joy that she felt.

Her dress did what it was supposed to at those times, hinting just a little bit higher on her legs, showing off her gorgeous thighs.

She beamed as she walked casually towards the club that she so often frequented as it was fun and lively and always managed to get her mind off of work.

Amelia's eyes flickered around the room before she spotted a group of her friends, and the other females did not hesitate to point out a charming woman in a pink coat that hid the majority of her figure; it was such a contrast to Amelia's outfit that one would think that Amelia would not be drawn in by that.

It seemed to be a challenge that her friends had set up to see if Amelia could draw the other woman's attention to her to win a kiss; Amelia didn't mind the challenge at all in fact she welcomed it.

Amelia found herself dancing sexily on the dance floor and motioning towards the taller female to join her.

The other female had instead rolled her eyes and looked away before Amelia stepped closer with her hips swaying just right to draw the other woman's eyes downward.

Amelia smirked and leaned towards and practically against the other female, "Do you want it?"

She received a half muttered, "Da," under the breath of the Russian female before her and found herself tugged against that soft. pink coat as lips found hers.

It had to have been the hottest kiss that Amelia had ever received though her mind grew far too foggy for her to realize that she was in fact kissing a Russian.

Amelia still attempted to muffle her moan though it quickly escaped her as she was tugged in to the taller female's arms.

"What's your name?" Amelia finally asked the woman that she'd just kissed who had picked her up.

"It's Anya." The one clad in the pink coat answered her.

"Fuck! I kissed a Russian!? Ew, how gross!" Amelia exclaimed as the accent and name made that far too clear for her.

"You loved every minute of it too, da?" Anya asked her, and Amelia realized that she couldn't say no to that now.

"Yeah, I guess." Amelia grumbled almost miserably.

"Will you be mine?" Anya asked in a way that a nervous and shy child may ask such a question, and it sadly tugged at Amelia's heart.

"Yeah. I'm Amelia in case you were wondering." The kiss that Amelia received for that alone made her head spin and the room seem brighter and happier somehow.

May be it was wrong for Amelia to hate Russians yet come home to one every night with an almost childlike glee; they had dated for a while before Anya moved in though that probably seemed irrelevant in time.

Amelia couldn't be happier that the woman that she came home to loved her and was the cause of fireworks going off in her head everytime that they kissed.

Who cared anyway that the patriot's true love was a Russian?

Certainly not Amelia, who was far too happy with her life to care.


End file.
